by Selena Page
Uncle Henry’s glare transformed into a frown, more confusion than anger, wondering if the newly-arrived Lady Caprice would be the one to turn the Captain’s eye away from his only daughter. She suppressed another laugh, this one real, as she imagined herself trussed up like a Christmas ham and literally handed over to the Hessian on a silver platter. The card reading “Enjoy and stay the hell away from my daughter.”
As quick as he was with the sword, Captain Jerrick was as quick with the politics. One hand lifted, palm up and offered to Alynia, the other offered in the exact same manner to Linnet. Both women stared at each other over the offered hands, and Alynia took her cue from Linnet. In unison, they placed their palms upon his offered palms. Captain Jerk turned his hands over under their gloved fingers, sliding his arms forward until each woman rested her hand squarely on his forearm. Perfectly polite and charming, as befitting a bachelor escorting two women of marriageable age.
“Thank you,” Captain Jerk whispered as he led the way towards the gardens.
“No problem,” Alynia whispered back. “Just remember who saved who tonight.”
A fair amount of arrogance filtered back into his eyes. “Do you think that makes us even?”
Her laugh wasn’t faked, wasn’t hidden behind her hand, and was more like a snicker. “Oh, sugar, we haven’t begun to tally scores here. I’m more than wicked furious with you over the whole drugging thing. What was that all about, hrm?”
Another freaking frustrating shrug out of him. “I needed time to investigate your items and your claims.”
“You mean to see if I was truly a Colonial traitor.”
“Ja.”
“And I would imagine I wouldn’t have woken if you’d found anything to substantiate that claim.”
“Aloisia!” Linnet gasped, all but clinging to Jerrick’s arm. “Don’t say such things. It’s unbecoming.”
“Nein, she has a right to her answer. You would have woken. You would have had your trial. And, ja, you would have been executed.”
“Well, isn’t it lucky you didn’t find anything.”
“I did not say that.”
Both women came to a stop, both staring at him with wide eyes. The double heartbeat of her amulet thrummed against her skin, and out of the corner of her eye, Alynia saw a flash in the ruby around Linnet’s neck. Caprice magic held its proverbial breath in the air, waiting for use. Begging for use. Whispering the singsong lure of what they could do if they worked together.
“What did you find, Jerrick?” Linnet asked, breath catching on each word.
Alynia braced for the question, knowing she couldn’t lie to him convincingly. If he asked her if she were a traitor to the British crown, if she was an American sympathizer, she was going to have to answer yes. She’d sworn on the flag since her first day of school, lived the American laws with every breath in her body, and defended them as an officer for most of her life. American through and through. There was no getting around it.
“You are not a rebel,” he said, eying the two of them carefully. “My investigation is pending, however.”
“How long until you close it?”
“I have authority to keep it open as long as I need.”
“Meaning you can keep me in this village for the rest of my life if you so see fit.”
“Ja. You have much to answer for when you recover yourself, Lady Aloisia,” he took both their arms again, looping them through his this time as they were out of eyesight of others. “Until then, I have named you as my ward. You are under my protection, and will remain in Herr Caprice’s home until I say otherwise.”
“I don’t understand,” Linnet shook her head. “What are you looking for, Captain? If she is not a rebel—and I would stake my life on that—why does anything else matter?”
He tucked Linnet in close beneath his arm, much as Knife-Wielder had done to her. So much tenderness in that action, Alynia halfway expected him to brush his lips against those coppery curls and whisper words of how much he loved her innocence.
“Keep this conversation for another time,” he murmured, smiling down at them both. “Do not fear, Aloisia. If my investigation turns up anything of a negative variety, there are those in my command willing to compensate for those mistakes.”
Linnet brightened at that, grinning around the wall that was pretending to be his chest, to wink at Alynia. “That means someone has already asked for your hand, Aloisia. Isn’t that wonderful? Perhaps we will have a double wedding. Sisters instead of cousins that way.”
Alynia blinked once, again, and had to look around to see if they were talking to someone else who happened to have the name Aloisia. Because this certainly couldn’t be happening to her.
“I’m already married.”
“There is no record of your marriage anywhere in the state. I sent riders to inquire. Aloisia Caprice is a single woman traveling from Europe. Her escorts were murdered by rebels, her goods stolen to fuel their futile war effort. Aloisia Caprice is under my protection. I have documents in my possession to prove it.”
Translation: he’d had someone draw up documents to prove his claims while she did her imitation of Sleeping Beauty.
She almost yanked her arm away, rage burning hot in her chest. Almost. Deep breaths and a What-Would-Iowin-Do mantra kept her in place. But it was a near miss. “My husband will come for me,” she growled.
A fire of his own lit up those too-blue eyes. “He will meet my blade to answer for his crime against you. Understand, Aloisia, you have been given a second chance and a good life here in Sleepy Hollow. Do not throw it away on someone who left you stranded in a battlefield alone. That is unforgivable in any honorable man’s eyes.”
Oh, that did it. First, insinuating she was his property and then calling Iowin, of all people, a coward? “Look—”
“Captain von Kynphausen,” a soldier called, marching into view around the garden wall before she could really get into it.
He held up his hand to forestall her, placing Linnet’s palm tenderly in Alynia’s. “Stay here,” he ordered the two of them, stepping over to his officer.
They crossed several steps away, practically out of earshot, and began speaking softly in German. Alynia rounded on Linnet.
“What was that all about?” she hissed. “A double wedding, are you out of your damned mind?”
“What did you want me to say?” Linnet hissed right back. “That we’re witches? That magic brought you here from two hundred years in the future? He’d burn us both alive for that! No, the only chance you have of returning to your husband is playing along. No matter how long it takes. If you have to marry whomever he’s chosen for you, do it. So be happy if you don’t feel it. Didn’t your mother ever teach you anything about being a lady?”
“Fuck that, both to being a lady and being auctioned off to the highest bidder. Disregarding the fact that I’m married already, I sure as hell won’t spend the rest of my life pretending to be what I’m not. That’s what my mother taught me about being a lady. Never lay down for anyone for any reason. I’m not a doormat and neither are you.”
Linnet stared at her, truly stared at her, like she’d gone mad. “We’re women,” she whispered. “Our lot in life isn’t to be auctioned off so coldly. It’s to obtain the best match, and hopefully fall in love with that one.”
Christ, where was the I-Need-Feminism brigade when she needed one? If she had to endure a lifetime of this crap, she’d go absolutely bonkers. No, she’d end up throwing herself into the nearest Women’s Suffrage movement she could find and probably end up beaten to death by all the men around her. Though she’d take more than a few down with her.
Ironically, the thought of kicking chauvinistic ass helped to dam the frustrated tears trying their best to escape her control.
Captain Jerk rejoined their little group, pausing to slip one finger beneath Alynia’s chin and tip her face towards the moonlight. “Do not fear, Aloisia,” the pad of his thumb delicately brushed at the tears in her ey
elashes. “Joy will find you again, perhaps sooner than you think. You will never know harm in my care. Nor will you, Fraulein Linnet. You have my word of honor.”
He produced a tiny knife and cut two of the lavender amnesia roses from the nearby bush, gently tucking one behind Alynia’s ear, and offering the other to Linnet. She took it with a childlike delight, earning a chuckle from Captain Life-Wrecker, and inhaled the scent deeply. Linnet sank into his chest, fingers grasping the lapels of his jacket until they shook. His hand swept gently across her slender back, his face lowering to finally breathe in the scent of her hair.
Alynia stepped away, giving them their space and wrapping her arms around herself, searching through the bond for her beloved. He was alive, muting their connection for some reason. But he was alive, and he was coming for her. That’s all that should matter. And yet…
Fear wormed its way into her heart, true fear that she’d end up trapped here in the past, bought and sold to some man as a wife without so much as her consent. God, this wasn’t how it was supposed to end for her, was it? After everything she’d gone through, everything she’d sacrificed and lost just to be with Iowin again, was it really her fate to lose him so soon?
Dammit, Iowin, where are you? Why aren’t you here?
Aren’t I? His touch whispered through the bond, a warm breeze of life flowing across her soul. Turn around.
The solider Captain Dicknuts had been addressing was joined by another soldier, and in between them stood Iowin Tintreach. He stood there with his hat in his hands, shoulders tight and slightly hunched, worried that an awful fate was about to befall him. But the bond, the blessed bond of magic and love, echoed with his steely calm. It was so wonderful, so amazing to feel it again, to see him again, that she gasped.
Captain Asscrackers spun in response, freehand landing on a dagger at his waist. Linnet huddled against him, peering in the same direction.
“Who is that?” Linnet asked, staring in Iowin’s direction.
“Ah, him,” Captain Jerk nodded, releasing his dagger. “That is Herr Ichabod Crane, the new schoolmaster.”
Chapter 8
She owed a lot of people money.
Funny, how that was the only thought coherently passing through her brain pan. Other bits of half-formed feelings floated around the periphery of that thought, all instinct-driven cries to run to Iowin, to throw fire and power at everyone else until her husband was free. Until they could find the location of their initial ritual, steal the book Linnet had lent her, and blow a hole back to their own time. Hell, bringing Linnet and Captain Jerrick forward in time with them wasn’t completely out of the question at that point. He appeared bright enough to catch on to a modern life, and God knew Linnet needed a good dose of what it was like to be her own woman. Alynia’s mother and grandmother would straighten Linnet out in a month flat. There were no other stronger women in the world.
But all of that was secondary to the wondrous truth that Iowin was alive. He was alive and he was there with her, filling every one of her senses. Surrounded by moonlight and the thick lovely scent of roses, and black lilies, and who knew what else.
Big reveals in the middle of fantastical gardens by moonlight just didn’t happen. No damsel ever hitched up her skirt and ran with all her heart toward her beloved in a flurry of petticoats. Moments no longer occurred for a gal to be swept off her feet into a kiss that should have gone on forever. Nope. Never. All gone. That crap didn’t exist anymore. Or if it did, it would never happen to her. She had bet real money on it.
Yet there she was, her coal-black hair spun in perfect ringlets down her back, a flower tucked behind her ear. A gown of pale green silk framed a square neckline of generous cleavage, tightening down her arms and her sides, only to float around her in a train of embroidered flowers. A delicate cloak hung loosely from her elbows, a wide-brimmed hat held in her gloved hands.
He stood in the moonlight, too, all six foot of him alive and well in 1789. Moonlight silvered that blond hair, made jade green eyes obsidian in color. Tight breeches covered him from waist to knee, black boots from the knee down. His coat was long and tailed, double-breasted and buttoned over his chest. A waistcoat peeked out here and there as was the fashion, a dagger at his side rather than a full sword. A stiff high white collar and dark tie completed the look. Well, that and the three-cornered hat he currently held in his hands.
She didn’t need a big wedding after all, not after seeing him in this formal wear. Not after him seeing her in this dress.
Stars above, he fit. He literally fit with ease into the time frame like he was born to it. Earnest and innocent expression on his face, hints of fear peeking out here and there, wondering what he may have done wrong and what may have happened to bring him to a Captain’s attention. Just a lowly schoolmaster looking to make an honest living in this world. Nothing more.
His eyes gave it away though; the trademark Tintreach power tossing glitters of emerald flame into the moon-darkened obsidian of his eyes. The moment they locked on hers, green sparks burst into writhing flame within the bond, his power sweeping her under. Rage, pure hot rage drove the metaphysical rivers to flood the banks of his control. Not at her, of course, but at the man who currently had his hand on her elbow, gently pressing her backward and behind him.
“Be on your way Herr Crane,” Captain Douchenozzle declared, only half glancing at the supposed harmless schoolmaster. “You are dismissed.”
Iowin managed a nod, bowing his head to hide the heat in his gaze, trying his best to assume humility. “Thank you, Captain.”
He turned away, all that power retreating from her, banked by his need to hide what he was until he knew exactly what was going on.
“Wait,” Alynia called, panic sticking in her throat. Don’t go, or at least take me with you. I can’t manage another day of acting like a silly girl who doesn’t have the fight or flight instincts God gave a fucking cockroach!
The guards paused, each a step ahead of Iowin to put themselves between him and their Captain’s new ward.
Beloved, don’t. One of us needs to keep an eye on the Captain and his men, the other needs to be free to figure out what happened here. Magic caused the Horseman to break into our time from this village. We have the location. Now we need the spell. It’ll be alright.
Says you! Where the hell have you been, anyway?
Following you, where else?
Iowin—
Ichabod. I’m Ichabod and you’re… what did he call you?
Aloisia, she snapped. It means warrior woman in German.
Iowin flicked an appraising glance across the Captain from beneath his eyelashes, begrudging approval brushing her thoughts. Followed quickly by hating the fact that the begrudging approval was there.
“I… uh,” she stammered, glancing between Iowin and Captain Jerkface. “I had a question about his teaching styles. Uncle Henry asked me if I knew Latin. I don’t. Maybe he can teach it? It would provide distraction for me during the long winter.”
That man is a freaking faucet, Alynia growled. Hot or cold, douchebiscuit or awesome. There’s no in between. And that’s what makes him—
Dangerous. Extremely dangerous. Yes, I agree. Keep your wits about you, my Nia. He’s suspicious enough of you already. I can tell by the way he watches you. And now you’re making him suspicious of me.
Captain Jerkface the Too Observant tipped his head to the side, eyeing her more than her husband. “Well, Herr Crane. Can you satisfy the lady’s request?”
Careful, here, Iowin. He’s also the Horseman, which you would have learned already if you let me finish a thought. And tell the man you speak Latin, already!
He blinked hard, staring at his hat like it were the most interesting thing in the world. Are you certain? He seems, I don’t know, not right somehow. How did you—no, we’re out of time. We can fight about this later. “Yes, Herr Captain. I speak Latin. Some of it. Enough to teach the basics.”
She turned quickly to Captain Paranoia,
nearly tripping over the hem of the ridiculous dress again. How in the world had she ever thought it was lovely? Utter waste of cloth, space, and her time. “Then it’s settled.”
Captain Paranoia pursed his lips, eyes narrowing slightly at her. “You have accepted your place here rather quickly. Especially with the thought of tutelage from our new schoolmaster.”
Alynia sighed, rubbing her temples. One day, she’d fight a bad guy without Sherlockian deductive capabilities. “Look, I’m trying to be happy like you said, okay? Let it be, Captain,” she growled aloud this time. “Not everyone who crosses your path is an enemy. That way lies madness and you know it.”
“It’s all right, Captain,” Ichabod the beloved Idiot cut in. “Uh, erm, if it pleases your lordship, I mean, sir. I would not mind a proper introduction to the ladies if I am to be instructing them.” One of the soldiers, Knife-Wielder if she remembered correctly, earned his name yet again by drawing a blade at the mention of herself and Linnet. Iowin made a decent show of swallowing hard. “Proper introductions, that is, with your direct supervision, of course.”
Captain Irritating walked over to them, offering his free hand to Alynia. Gritting her teeth behind her small smile, she curtsied and took the offered hand, letting him pull her closer to his side and further from her husband. The other soldier drew a second blade, and both held them down at their sides. Both stood ready to defend their captain and his wards if the schoolmaster so much as blinked wrong.
Both would die before they so much as lifted those blades, either by her hand or Iowin’s. It was better if it didn’t have to come to that.
So, distraction it was. Granted, her particular flavor of distraction involved her gun and a liberal application of sarcasm. This situation was different, and she was going to have to do yet another thing she swore she’d never do in her entire life.
She was going to have to be a girl, full-on weapons-grade girlie.